


The Sharpest Lives

by perpetualresilience



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Detective!AU, F/M, M/M, also also yuuri gets drunk lmao, also more characters will show up, love is in the fucking air, watch me slowly burn under the unrelenting emotions this will eventually cause, watch out for the angst and pain and fluff and romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 12:33:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10831371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetualresilience/pseuds/perpetualresilience
Summary: Victor Nikiforov lives in the northern part of Manhattan, with his poodle Makkachin. Working as a detective at the nearby police station, he’s taken in tons of different cases, but none like this. Yuri Plisetsky, the world-renowned ballet dancer, has gone missing without a trace. With barely a clue as to his whereabouts, now Victor is forced to look in more.. unexpected places for help. Yuuri Katsuki, his new intern, has proven to be more-than-intern, with a surprising knowledge on psychology. The two begin working together more intimately, and with the help from Yuri Plisetsky’s friends and family, hopefully they can find him soon.





	The Sharpest Lives

“When was your last interaction with Yuri?”

“Late last Wednesday, at roughly one in the morning,” Otabek Altin took a deep breath before continuing, “Things had been pretty rough between us at the time. I was obligated to go out on tours and other events often, while Yurio travelled around to perform and train constantly with Lilia. We started talking less and became more distant. I thought it would be a good idea if we took a break from our relationship.” Otabek shrugged, his posture stiffening slightly as he added, “Prioritize what we needed to; get rid of the things that weren’t important.

“Yuri… he exploded on me. He has a temper, and it certainly showed that night. I think… I think I really hurt him.” His hands clenched, the words pouring out of his mouth. “I’ve never seen him act that way towards me before. He was shouting and yelling. Cursing. I bet the neighbors heard him. Things like ‘You motherfucking asshole! You goddamned dick! There’s nothing fucking wrong with us! You’re just being fucking selfish! Putting your dumbass band before me!’”

Otabek looked down, trying to conceal his emotions, just trying to hold it all in. “I think he might’ve been crying, but it was dark. He kept moving around. I just couldn’t see clearly. I managed to say a few things back, tried to calm him down. Maybe even see my point of view. But at that point, he-he just couldn’t handle it.” Otabek’s fingers unclenched themselves, hands flying up to his face. He buried his face in them, taking shaky breaths as sudden sobs racked his body.

Victor Nikiforov reached towards him, slightly hesitant as he patted Otabek’s shoulder gently. Victor murmured, “Hey, it’s alright, it’s going to be alright. I’m going to find him. Everything’s going to be okay.”

After a few minutes, Otabek wrenched his hands away from his tear-stained face, his voice trembling as he finally continued, “He insulted me and told me I never really loved him, that all I loved was music and fame and that I just used him to get higher up on the bar. Then he… just left. Took his things, flipped me off multiple times, and slammed the door on his way out. That was the last time I saw him.” Taking another deep breath, Otabek shrugged unsteadily, turning away from Victor.

Victor could tell Otabek was struggling, could tell that Otabek fighting an internal battle, could tell that the man in front of him was desperate for answers. He folded his hands against one another, maintaining a straight, indifferent face. He wanted to comfort Otabek and the others, but first and foremost, his top priority was to get all of the details. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have anything to work with. 

Cocking his head slightly to one side, Victor inquired, “Have you had any problems like this before?”

“Not really, no. Yurio was completely fine with our relationship and I was too, until we distanced ourselves.”

“What about your interactions before your fight? Were they tense or pleasant or-?”

“They just felt distant,” Otabek emphasized for what felt like the millionth time. “It was as if I didn’t know Yurio as much as I used to, like I was missing out on something. I don’t know whether he felt the same.”

“Do you know if Yuri had any problems with other people?”

“Well-” Otabek smiled woefully- “He had problems with a lot of things. Yuri was an intolerant person. Strong-willed. Thick-headed. Shortest temper I’ve ever seen. I’m sure he’s yelled at a few good people in his lifetime, though it’s mostly for minor nuisances- like when people don’t know when to shut up or stop bothering him. It’s intimidating if you don’t know him.

“Despite that though, he was pretty caring. Just easily annoyed, so I don’t think he’s ever had major grudges before.” Otabek shrugged tersely, stiffly.

“Do you know where he could’ve gone, or if there was anyone who had any bad intentions towards him?” Victor’s eyebrow raised, his gaze probing the man opposite of him.

“No. I would say he went to Russia, but if he wanted to stay off the grid then he wouldn’t go there. Despite his impulsiveness, Yurio was smart.” 

So Otabek didn’t think Yuri was kidnapped or anything of the sort, Victor thought. That’s interesting. “So you don’t think Yuri might’ve had enemies or anyone like that?”

“Yurio might’ve upset more than a few people, but he didn’t have enemies.” Otabek’s mouth tightened into a thin line; Victor noted it, then stood up silently.

Victor nodded carefully, “Thank you for your time, Mr. Altin. Katsuki and an officer will see you out.” He turned to leave, but paused when Otabek stopped him.

Desperation and mourning laced in his voice, he managed to force out the question he had been dreading to ask. "When will you be able to find him?"

“As soon as I possibly can.” On that note, Victor left the Kazakh, nodding to Yuuri and JJ as he turned sharply down the hall, a signal that they could go escort Otabek.

Within moments, Victor was back in his office. Falling back into his chair, he reached over and picked up the case file again, fingering through the contents. Same old, same old. Just Yuri’s background, his family relations and files, the police report. 

Within the hour he would get a recording of the interrogation, which he would inevitably listen to on repeat for hours on end. This happened every time he had a particularly difficult case; if he were honest with himself, this was one of the most mysterious ones he’s investigated yet. No traces as to where Yuri went, barely any eye-catching information on his whereabouts before his disappearance, and just an emotional story from his boyfriend. Victor only hoped that maybe Lilia, Mila, Chris, or JJ would be more informative, although he also doubted it. When Yakov first introduced him to the case and the people involved, Lilia still seemed in denial; Mila was just worried and about to kick someone’s ass; Chris was just confused; JJ wouldn’t stop talking about his goddamn self. 

No, nothing useful at all, so when he went and visited each of them, why would he get anymore information? Still would be good to check, though.

Muttering to himself about incompetent clues, Victor shuffled through his messy desk. Despite his neatness everywhere else, his desk and room at home were the most disgusting places imaginable, and he couldn’t get the motivation to change that fact. He picked up stacks of papers and files and sat them on the ground as steadily as he could, piling them up on top of each other as he sifted through all of this information. Maybe he could find some sort of parallels to another case he’s done, possibly even identify some suspects- well, suspects besides for Otabek. The musician made him suspicious, and he wouldn’t be surprised whatsoever if Otabek was involved with the case.

Victor’s talking-to-himself became increasingly louder as the hours passed. Yakov came in and visited him at one point, demanding answers that Victor couldn’t give. He eventually got his interrogation recording, as expected, and played it throughout the afternoon, then the night, as he poured over the case. 

Yep, this one was a motherfucking doozy. Nothing so far. 

Grasping his face in his hands, he leaned his elbows against his desk, taking in a deep breath. Coffee, that’s what he needed. Victor checked the time, and realized it was nearly two in the morning. So much for a good night’s sleep.

Victor sat there, his fingertips pressing down firmly against his temples, massaging them. He wouldn’t have been so stressed about it if it weren’t for Yakov- and his reputation on the line. The popularity and fame of Yuri Plisetsky could mean an absolute downfall on Victor’s competence if he couldn’t find the boy. He embraced the momentary silence, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. For a couple of minutes he sat there, just thinking about nothing until- clicking. The sound of someone typing on a keyboard.

Standing up, Victor slowly walked around his desk and stepped out of his office. His eyebrows raised when he spotted Yuuri Katsuki, sitting at his small desk right outside of Victor’s office. The boy was typing away ferociously, fingers nearly a blur as they travelled across the keyboard. After a few seconds of watching him, Victor realized that Yuuri was too focused to notice him, and coughed softly.

Yuuri’s head whirled around, the boy jumping in surprise; Victor couldn’t help but smirk slightly. His head tilted to the side as he asked, “What’re you doing out so late?”

“Just… work,” Yuuri’s cheeks heated up to a faint red blush. “I mean… as your intern, there’s always something to be done.” A shy smile tugged at the sides of his lips.

Victor’s grin widened as he replied, “That’s true enough. I guess you’d be the Watson to my Sherlock, if that’s the case. Always something to be done between those two.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes, then glanced back down at his computer. “Why-why’re you out so late though?” His fingers drummed against his leg as he looked up at Victor, insecure but still bold enough to continue with, “I know you have-have the Plisetsky case going on, but surely that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get some re-rest?”

“I suppose so,” Victor shrugged, finding Yuuri intriguing. He hadn’t really talked to the intern too much before, besides to order him around; in fact, he didn’t talk much to anyone in the office, besides for maybe Yakov. “Hey, it’s a late night, barely anyone’s out- wanna head for a drink?”

“R-really?” Yuuri looked down at his desk again, before with a decisive air, closing his computer down and shoving his papers to the side. “I will if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t, I’m the one that offered.” On those words, Victor lead Yuuri out of the police station. It was a pretty normal night, just chilly and frosty, since winter was approaching without a second of hesitation. They hailed a cab and Victor directed it to his favorite pub. The pair talked about nothing and everything in the back. Victor soon came to learn of Yuuri’s obsession with poodles and pork-cutlet bowls; he’d have to keep that in mind. In return, he told Yuuri about some Russian and detective adventures he’s had, along with his interest in fancy extravagances. He also mentioned Makkachin and showed Yuuri pictures, which made the intern nearly squeal with delight. Victor was having a relaxing and fun time before he even reached the bar, which usually never happened. Who knew interns could be so much more than just… interns?

They arrived at the pub within the next forty five minutes, and Victor practically dragged Yuuri inside. He lead his companion over to the bar, sitting down right in front of the female bartender. Yuuko’s eyebrows raised at the sight of Yuuri, giving Victor a questioning look as she asked, “And what’ll it be? The regular?”

“Two glasses of your best wine, actually,” Victor flashed a grin at her. She turned and readied the drinks, sharing a knowing glance with her fellow bartender and husband, Takeshi, as he passed.

She mouthed to him, “How long do you bet-?”

Taking a moment to look over the chatting pair in front of him, he mouthed back, “Two months at the most,” before continuing with his work. Yuuko pivoted back around, two drinks in her hands. She sat one down in front of each man before continuing to “work”, eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Basically I only became a detective because of Yakov,” Victor drawled as Yuuri listened quietly. “He was a family friend, and when he got into the whole police business, my parents expected me to do the same. I think they really wanted me to idolize him- and I did, in a sense. Not as much now, though; I’m sure you’d know why.” His grin widened sheepishly, and Yuuri smirked slightly. “What about you though? Why’d you end up as an intern?”

Yuuri shrugged, a reserved expression on his face as he replied, “Just needed a job, and thought it’d be interesting to shoot for something outside of my comfort zone.”

“That’s it? No family story or friends or anything?”

“No, that’s it.” His attention shifted as he finally noticed the drink besides him. His smirk widened as he grabbed the glass, drinking a bit hesitantly at first, until nearly half of it was gone before he sat it down again.

“Whoa, Yuuri, it’s not like we’re in a rush or anything.”

“I know,” Yuuri loosened up slightly, a sure sign that the alcohol was already working on him,“I just like the taste.” He picked up his wine again, giving it another glug. With a shrug, Victor joined in, and in no time the glasses were empty. Victor ordered another round, and another, and another, and so on. He tried to refrain from drinking too much though, sensing it’d get a little too wild if he got drunk.

Yuuri drained his glass each refill, and it was long before he was, to be frank, totally wasted. Slurring his words and practically stripping down, he wrapped his arms around Victor’s neck and leaned heavily against him, unsteady as he said, “Heey, hey Victa…. do ya.. do ya wanna go to my place…? I have.. I have tons of stuff there… hahaha.. lots of stuff…”

One of his arms slipped off of Victor’s neck, and he lazily reached for the buttons of his shirt, clearly intending to strip down. Victor gently reached out and pulled Yuuri’s arm back around his neck; wouldn’t want him to go stark-naked in public. Yuuri was slightly disappointed for a moment, before brightening up as if he had an idea. “Victa heyyy.. what if…. what if I helped ya with your case…? That would... that would be nice.... hahahaha.” 

Yuuko passed by the two, one hanging off of the other’s shoulders and swaying drunkenly, and immediately gave Victor a pointed look before saying, “I think you two should head home.” Victor guiltily shrugged, looking back at Yuuri before replying, “Yeah, I better take him home.” Standing up, he wrapped his arm around Yuuri’s waist and lead the man to his feet. Yuuri fell back into the seat and, realizing that he probably couldn’t stand, Victor just slipped one hand under Yuuri’s bottom and wrapped the other around him, lifting him up with a slight grunt. He promised Yuuko that he’d come back later to pay in full, once he got Yuuri settled down, before heading outside.

Victor hailed a cab with some difficulty, seeing as Yuuri kept trying to take off his clothes, although he managed to get one and get Yuuri to his apartment complex safely. His steps could be heard echoing through the stairwell as he carried Yuuri up one, two, three flights. Finally, he reached his floor, and got into his apartment without incident. Yuuri immediately dazzled at all of the decorations in there, stumbling around and staring at them. An amused smile tugged at Victor’s lips as he trailed behind the boy, making sure he didn’t break anything.

After about twenty minutes of this, Victor decided to put Yuuri to bed, and gently coaxed him into lying down on the couch. He let Yuuri ramble and mutter and move around, although firmly kept him on the couch. In a little while Yuuri fell asleep, leaving Victor to realize just how exhausted he was. Despite this, he took the time to pull off Yuuri’s shoes and socks, along with covering him with a blanket.

Now it was five or so in the morning. Great. He’d have to call Yakov and get a sick day for this, although he didn’t exactly mind. Yuri Plisetsky could wait for a day; he’d just go talk to Lilia tomorrow. Sitting in the armchair next to the couch, he watched Yuuri’s sleeping figure. The intern’s chest moved slowly with each breath, inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

Victor felt himself focusing on the smaller movements of Yuuri. Inhale, exhale. A small head adjustment. Arm moving so it hung over the side of the couch. Yuuri was so nice when he slept... Victor’s eyes slowly, oh so slowly, blinked shut, and he felt himself falling asleep, fully aware he was still fully clothed but not going to bother changing anyway.

____

The sound of Yuuri’s voice woke Victor up. “What… what the hell?” The boy was sitting up on the couch, looking around the room in bewilderment. He spotted Victor and was forming the words, “Victor? What am I-” before his hand shot up to his mouth. Yuuri flew to his feet, and so did Victor, who raced the boy to the bathroom. Yuuri was barely on his knees before he started retching into the toilet. Victor hurried and grabbed what appeared to be aspirin, along with a wet cloth. Sitting them next to Yuuri, he stood there and helped the boy as a hangover kicked in.

It was about an hour before Yuuri was well enough to stand on his own two feet. Victor lead him out to the couch, with a blanket wrapped around him. He made a quick PB&J for Yuuri and sat it next to him, before instructing him to relax for the time being and call if he needed anything. Then Victor disappeared into his room, pulling his phone out of his pocket and finding multiple voice messages from Yakov, all of them basically saying the same thing: “Where the literal hell are you?”

Not too keen on receiving one of Yakov’s lectures, he just texted his superior, explaining that he was feeling rather ill and needed a day or two to recover. After pressing “send”, he glanced around at his messy room, seeing Makkachin snuggling and snoring up on top of the piles of stuff in his bed. “Big Mak, you have to get up.”

The poodle was up and at Victor’s feet in no time, and Victor lead him to Yuuri. The two struck up a friendship as soon as they met, and soon enough Makkachin was cuddling up to Yuuri on his lap. Victor sat down besides Yuuri and they both watched the news for a bit, making comments here and there about the media and its biased views.

It wasn’t long before Victor’s phone rang, and he excused himself before walking out onto his balcony and answering. Anyone could’ve heard Yakov’s booming voice. “Victor Nikiforov, why are you taking an off day because you’re sick?! You’ve never done that before, and let me tell you, you’re not going to get into the habit now! We have a serious case on our hands-” Victor couldn’t help but think it was a case more up to the likes of him- “and just because you want to slack off and don’t realize how important it is doesn’t mean I’ll just let your absence slide! This is the famous Yuri Plisetsky here, and the media is already going wild over his disappearance! Not to mention his family and friends! Why are you so intent on disappearing like him now?! Hold- hold on-” Victor could tell that Yakov moved the phone away from his mouth, although he clearly heard the chief’s yelling anyway.

“What, what? Can’t you see I’m on the phone-” The sound of a door opening, and a girl’s voice matching the volume of Yakov’s shouted, “Yurio is my friend and I demand to see the detective who’s been assigned his case! I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer, alright- he is my friend, don’t you dare deny me at least a conversation with the person who’s supposed to find him!”

Victor’s eyebrows raised. Mila was quite feisty at… Victor checked the time, and was mildly surprised. Three in the afternoon. Before he could think much about it, however, he heard Yakov turning back to the phone, “Alright, alright, if you want to talk to him, he’s right here-”

“Actually-” Victor cut him off- “I’ll gladly meet Mila in person, at the station. Just give me a half hour.” He hung up, knowing it’d cost him a limb when he got to the station but frankly not caring.

Victor hurried into the living room, rushing past a confused Yuuri. Disappearing into the privacy of his bedroom, he changed into a casual yet stylish set of clothes: a white t-shirt, denim jacket, and faded jeans. Slipping on a nice pair of black shoes and a black watch, and making sure to grab his wallet and phone, he whizzed out of his room. He slipped into the bathroom and took a few seconds to click back and brush his hair, before appearing back in the living room and striding quickly over to the front door.

Yuuri didn’t even have a chance to ask as Victor called over his shoulder, “I’ll be back in a bit, just dealing with some urgent business. You know where the bathroom and medicine is, and feel free to look around the kitchen if you get hungry. Take Makkachin out at least once within the next two hours.” Normally he didn’t trust this task to someone he just became friends with, but Yuri Plisetsky’s case was a serious one and if he could get any information out of Mila, then urgency was key.

With that, he was out of the door, and hurrying on his way to the police station.

**Author's Note:**

> unrelated but u can find me on tumblr @resilientreader
> 
> also first fan fic in,,,forever so hopefully i dont fuck the fuck up


End file.
